The First Graduation

I sit here physically. I fight to stay here mentally and emotionally, remembering one of my daily goals; to be ‘present’ wherever I am. I grabbed the Graduation Program and searched for his name just to make sure this is real. There it is. His name. My oldest son graduating from high school.

The last time I was allowed to be his mother was almost six years ago. I barely know this, now man, that will walk across the stage. He gave me a ticket and although thankful, I feel a patronizing sting like a slap in the face.

Thoughtfully, I return to my words, “… allowed to be his mother.” In his life physically, this is true. His father began alienating him years prior. However, can anyone take away the fact that I am his mother? Hardly.

My prayers have not ceased; asking God that my love could somehow parent him in the spirit. No one can detract, from him or me, the life and the nurturing that I bestowed upon his heart those early years. Will he remember? He says he has no good memories of me. Did it impact his life nevertheless? No question.

I, in the end, lift my head because it is not for him or anyone else that I do what I do. Yes, I love my son with eternal motherly love. But the One for whom I work, strive, pray, cry and endure is the One from whom I will one day hear say, “well done my good and faithful servant,” and for that, I will be ‘present.’

Happy Graduation Day son. I love you.


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